New Strengths
by IvyBlooms
Summary: Life with the Khalasar is cruel and harsh as Daenerys struggles to find her place among them and become used to her new husband's rough ways. But even the most rugged of men can possess a glint of gentleness for the one they love. Oneshot, DanyXDrogo, sexy times and fluff ensue.


**Title: **New Strengths

**Rating: **M

**Pairing:** Daenerys and Khal Drogo

**Comments/Warnings: **This oneshot is rated M. That means there is sex/mention of sex. If this makes you uncomfortable, no problem, simply hit the back button. With that being said, if you choose to continue, I hope you enjoy this little thing that I whipped up. This is not beta'd so please excuse any typos. Thank you c:

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Daenerys watched with childlike awe as the Khal approached the blazing flames of their evening fire, his own little burning hot orbs staring into the golden light of the pit. Daenerys' heart gave a thunderous throb as the flames licked teasingly at his rough fingertips, curling teasingly around the flesh. The Khal showed no indication of pain or even that he felt the poking inferno; coal eyes just continuing to stare.

"_It is not something you can learn, my Khal."_ Daenerys spoke in her sloppy Dothraki tongue. She was still growing used to the choppy language and syllables became trapped on her muscle like a thick syrup. "_You will only continue to burn yourself."_

The Khal gave a grunt but otherwise showed no indication that he had heard his wife's concerned words. His black eyes were fixed on the flames intended for warmth during the chilly evenings and he brought his hand down another inch. Daenerys could smell the beginnings of burnt flesh fill their tent.

Acting swiftly, Daenerys reached her own dainty hand into the fire and shoved the Khal's away. "_Don't you smell that?"_ Daenerys asked as she brought the injured hand to her bosom and nestled it. Deep red and yellow blisters were forming on the fingers which had come into contact with the flames. "_You've burnt the flesh, my sun and stars."_

"_It is nothing." _The Khal growled, seemingly frustrated by his wife's coddling. He yanked his hand back and glared accusingly at the sizzling blisters.

"_You could injure your hand beyond repair. You may never do battle again should you injure it too severely."_ Daenerys insisted. "_Don't be stubborn and let me help."_

Reaching into a leather satchel, Daenerys pulled out a jar of gooey salve and clean bandages. After a bit more probing, the Khal surrendered his hand to his little wife and sighed in frustration as she gently worked her magic and wrapped the, surely, painful hand and she thought on what had prompted this sudden act of idiocy.

Daenerys had been cooking a dish from her homeland atop the fire alongside Doreah earlier in the day. A simple warmed stew with chicken meat and assorted herbs. Daenerys had been excited not to have to feast on horse meat for what seemed like the millionth time since she arrived. The meat of a horse was hard and tough on her teeth, not the mention the idea of actually eating a horse rather upset her belly most nights and she would become quite restless in the late hours from it. After weeks of sleepless nights, the Khal had ordered Doreah and few select handmaidens to make a journey to the nearest air market and purchase fresh chickens and fish for his wife's meals. Daenerys had thought it a very considerate gesture on her husband's part even when Viserys had acidically spat that it had only been because "the savage needed sleep too".

Regardless of his reasoning, Daenerys had been ever so grateful when Doreah returned three days later with a carriage full of live chickens and a sack of fresh fish in tow. Together the two hung the fish to dry in the sun where they could be saved for later and Daenerys had a few Dothraki men build her a simple wooden chicken pen. There were only six chickens but it was plenty to last her a while. Deciding to repay her husband for his kindness, Daenerys had Doreah slaughter a chicken and bring it whole, plucked and ready for butchering. Slicing into the meat Daenerys had stuffed herbs and spices into its slimy body and dumped it into a boiling pot of water, smiling as the savory smell of rosemary that began filling the tent. The thought of sharing a meal made by her own hands with her husband gave her heart a little flutter. It was an entirely domestic act that Daenerys had never been able to partake in before.

Daenerys watched the bubbling water with simple fascination, thinking on the times Viserys would make her such a dish, on the rare occasions when they had money to purchase a chicken and Viserys had the patience to cook it. Viserys would tell tales of their mother cooking in the kitchens and making this specific dish for the family, even when their father had scolded her for doing "servant" work. Viserys always smiled upon such memories and then would sigh wistfully, a clear indication of sorrow. He stopped telling her stories of their mother long ago and she had stopped asking after he struck her.

Daenerys had been telling this all to Doreah, who listened attentively on the other side of the pot with a genuine smile on her thin lips. During her animated tale however, Daenerys' hand had ventured too close to the fire and the flames caught her dress sleeve and practically engulfed her entire arm in its fiery wrath. Daenerys had screamed, though she did not feel an ounce of pain as the flames clutched her skin and Doreah raced to wrap an animal skin around her.

When all was calm and the flames on the Khaleesi's arm had been successfully put out, Doreah had gasped in shock when Daenerys had received no burns or blisters or any damage to her thin and pale arms. Doreah however now sported a long line of red and blistering skin from her heroic efforts. Upon hearing the retelling of this most unbelievable tale, the Khal had decided he too wanted to test his strengths against the blazing infernos. Being immune to the painful lashes of a flame could come in great handy in battle one day. More than anything else though, Daenerys could tell that her rugged husband nursed somewhat of a sore ego. His wife was superior to him in at least one respect and that was one too many for any Dothraki man.

"_Has my little moon been cursed by a witch?"_ Drogo had jested as she rubbed the slimey salve onto his blistering skin.

Daenerys had giggled nervously as she thought back on her life. She'd never come into contact with a witch before, at least not one that she could remember. And she couldn't recall ever doing something which warranted a curse to be placed on her. Daenerys had always been a meek child, both by nature and as a response to her brother's harsh teachings. She was always quiet and polite to any how came her way and that was how Viserys liked her; silent, obedient, and appealing to the eye. She was the model lady to anyone who gave a passing glance, though Viserys always managed to find pin sized holes in her carefully crafted shield. Daenerys suspected that her brother gained great joy from seeing her squirm under his analytical eye though and that was why he always would point out her mistakes with sharp words and brutal punishment.

"_You are lost in thought."_ Drogo realized after his wife had not answered his joking probe. "_My little moon could not have been cursed by a witch. Do not worry."_

Daenerys smiled at the coal eyed man and brushed aside a black strand that had fallen loose from his braid. "_I never have anything to worry about with you by my side."_ She cooed.

Drogo gave a rich chuckle and gently grabbed her hand which now rested on his shoulder. He pierced her with a smoldering look and Daenerys gulped, wanting nothing more than to back away and run to her brother's side. She recognized that heated gaze and knew that it always led to deep rooted pain that lasted well into the morning. There was still a part of Dany that feared her husband's wide girth inside her. She had been taken countless times since their wedding night and had grown accustomed to his size for the most part but in that time Drogo had taken it upon himself to begin the "rough" play associated with his people. Daenerys found this was what really caused the uneasy turning in her belly whenever he brought her to their bed each night. She knew the Khal did not mean to harm her and she honestly believed he didn't know of the deep aches that she woke with every morning or the burning sensations she experienced during the act. Or perhaps such feelings were normal and Daenerys was simply unaccustomed to such things. Her knowledge on bedroom pleasures were very little as Viserys had done well to keep her mind "pure" during their childhood.

"_Come to bed, my precious moon. The night is still young."_

Daenerys could feel her heart sink down into the ground at his thick words. There would be no turning back now and she knew it. The Khal was never denied anything and while he was far from spoiled, Daenerys knew that refusing the Khal would likely lead to a painful night for her.

Daenerys followed her bulky husband to their bed of piled animal skins and kneeled upon it delicately. She could hear Drogo disrobing behind her, ripping off leather pants and stomping on them as he crawled onto the bedding with a warm grin in place. Daenerys remained frozen in her kneeled position, still fully clothed. She could see the Khal growing impatient at her sudden reluctance to join him.

"_What are you doing?"_ He finally asked after she stood back up. "_Come here."_

Daenerys shook her head, though she hadn't meant it as a refusal in regards to his command, she had been attempting to clear her head of any ill thoughts. But the Khal had taken it the wrong way. He took it as a challenge.

Daenerys could practically hear the man's patience snap as his hand shot out and grabbed her arm firmly. His black eyes burned intensely like the flames of the fire pit and his lips pulled taut across his face, set and determined as if he were concentrating very deeply upon something. A sense of terror filled Daenerys as she quickly recognized this expression as the one many of the Dothraki men wore before they roughly mounted a woman for a public display of dominance. To Daenerys, the concept of public mating was foreign and vulgar but the Dothraki valued it as a sign of strength and dominance in their men and durability in their women. If a Dothraki woman couldn't take a brutal mounting before the eyes of her community, she was weak and without reprieve. There was nothing the Dothraki despised more than weakness.

Drogo had been kind enough to not to test Dany's 'durability' but she suspected she may have pushed him over the edge with this new miscommunication. Dany screwed her eyes shut and practically crumbled as Drogo pulled her towards him and laid her upon the fluffy animal furs. She felt the intense heat coming from his nether region and the stifling mass of his body as it pressed down on her. Dany gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging sharply into his roughened skin.

"_Do you fear me, moon of my life?"_ Drogo's voice was soft and sweet as if dipped in liquid sugar, Daenerys almost didn't recognize it as her husband's.

"_W-what?" _Her words were lost, her tongue weighed down as if her mouth was suddenly filled with thick honey.

"_Are you afraid of me?"_ He repeated just a kindly.

Daenerys didn't know what to say, her mind addled with possible answers. She sifted through her emotions and the rapidly firing thoughts, trying to make sense of them and find an appropriate response. She was silent for a long while before she opened her eyes and met her Khal's infinite ones.

"_Yes, I am afraid_." she answered very quietly but with conviction. "_Your traditions are strange to me and your people always stare as if I am a piece of meat to be devoured and I become sick easily at the thought of eating horse or dog and my brother grows agitated more and more as the days pass and his anger festers, and I am frail in a land where weakness is loathed so yes…I am afraid….but not of you."_

There was delicate silence, Daenerys refused to break her gaze with Drogo, staring into the depths of his eyes and watching with fascination as he pondered over her answer. Daenerys could see that her response had stumped him, his charcoal eyes sparkling, his grip on her wavering.

Daenerys was content to lay beneath the comforting weight of her Khal's body while he considered her words because for all the fear it had instilled in her mere moments ago, she found only solace in it now.

Soon enough, Drogo rolled over, completely exposed to the night's chill, and tucked Daenerys in the crook of his arm where he then wrapped his body around her comparably smaller one in what she could tell was a way to warm her.

"_Moon of my life,"_ his voice was gruff like it always was and Daenerys shivered. "_Do you believe I would mate a weak woman?"_

Daenerys was confused by the question but she answered honestly. "_No."_

"_Then do you think that I am weak?"_

"_No, my sun and stars. You are strong and brave." _She insisted.

"_Then do you believe me unable to protect you?"_

"_No. You would protect me against all threats."_

The Khal nodded, "_Then you need not fear anything. Not my Khalasar, nor your fake king of a brother, nor anything else that may come this way. You are the moon of my life and I will not let you fall from the sky so easily."_

Daenerys felt her eyes become wet with tears at his loving woven words, she was so entranced by them that she hardly noticed that the Khal had climbed back on her and shoved her skirts up towards her hips. For once, Daenerys found herself in an agreeable mood and more than willing to participate in the physical pleasures that accompanied marriage. She wrapped her legs around Drogo's hips and pulled him in, practically breaching herself on his manhood but he refused to enter just yet. Daenerys could see that Drogo, while far more kind and willing to compromise than any of the horrifying rumors led her to believe, still desired to be in control.

Daenerys pouted as the Khal gave a chuckle and leaned over her, fondling her breast in his large palm and meeting her lips with his simmering hot ones. She never quite grew used to the feeling of another's lip on hers. The sensation was addicting and she found herself, if nothing else, craving this part of intimacy with Drogo.

The night seemed like an endless dream to Daenerys, herself seemingly shrouded in a haze of ecstasy as the Khal showed her a whole new side of love to which she had never been exposed. The Khal mounted her gently as if she were made out of glass and rode her well into the early morning, the sound of singing birds just barely breaking through their pleasure induced moans and roars.

When the Khal finally tired and pulled himself from Daenerys' cavern, laying himself beside her, he said, "_You will have to teach me that little fire trick of yours."_ before slipping into a light slumber.

Daenerys couldn't help the tiny giggle that slipped past her lips before she pulled a heavy fur over them. After joining her Khal in sleep, Daenerys found herself dreaming of gleaming dragons and brilliant scarlet flames.


End file.
